Over the Moon
by Suki59
Summary: Sookie's a telepathic reporter in a world where no supes are out of the closet. She meets a mysterious stranger and soon finds herself over the moon. AU. Please enjoy Eric's point of view in the companion story, Under the Stars.
1. Chapter 1

Charlaine Harris owns all of this.

How in the world did I ever get myself into this position? I pride myself on being a damn good reporter. And a generally bright person. And of course, a telepath, but nobody else knows about that and I'd like to keep it that way. And yet, smart, telepathic or not, here I am stuffed in a closet with my hands and feet tied, terrified that today just might be my last day on this earth. I'm only twenty-five years old and I had plans with my life, goals to achieve, a happily ever after to search for. Thoughts like that make me think of Eric Northman. No, he's certainly not the kind of man I thought I'd have in my life, and yet here I am, facing the real possibility of dying and he's all I can think about. I've only known him a few weeks and in that short amount of time, he has gotten completely under my skin. Heck, I just might be in love with him.

I assumed that everybody could read minds when I was little. It wasn't until I started getting unwelcomed attention in school and had to go see lots of "special" doctors that I learned to keep my mouth shut about it. Now the only person who knows is my brother, Jason. Everybody else just thinks I'm a little crazy, which is fine. I'm used to that. I've learned how to control it a bit, and can now kind of put up shields so I'm not constantly bombarded with thoughts. But there's always the din of noise in the back of my mind even with my shields up. That's why I was so shocked the night that Eric snuck up on me. I was in the break room at the station one night waiting for an assignment. I was pouring myself a cup of coffee when I was startled by his voice behind me. All he said was, "Good evening," but I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned and must have been staring at him with an odd look on my face because he followed with, "Is there something wrong?" How do you tell a person that you can't hear his thoughts like you can everybody else's? Well, you can't.

"No. I'm sorry, I guess I just didn't hear you come in." I looked down to my shaking hand holding the coffee cup.

"Maybe you should switch to decaf." I kind of laughed nervously. "I'm Eric Northman, by the way."

"Oh, Sookie Stackhouse. Nice to meet you." He didn't extend his hand to shake mine, which I guess made sense since I was holding my cup of coffee that apparently should have been decaf.

Eric Northman filled a cup from the water cooler and left the room with a polite smile. I sat down in the closest chair to regain my composure. I told myself that I was shaken up because I had never had anyone sneak up on me before. It was alarming that Eric Northman's thoughts were hidden from me for some reason. But the real reason I was shaking was because Eric Northman was the sexiest man I had ever laid eyes on. Jiminy Crickets, he was positively breathtaking. Tall, blond, broad-shouldered. His presence just kind of filled the room. His face was beautiful and masculine at the same time, but what really got me was the color of his eyes. I had never seen eyes like that before, and wondered what kinds of wonderful goodies living your life with eyes that color must get a person. I felt lucky just to get to see them for a minute. And I was hoping to see them again very soon. Crystal blue. Pale turquoise. Clear aqua. I'd never get over them.

I got my assignment and went out and got the story before the eleven o'clock news went on the air. I got home at a fairly decent hour considering, but had trouble falling asleep. All I could think about was Eric Northman and his blue eyes and silent mind and perfect body and masculine scent. I had never been so affected by a first meeting before. A part of me wanted to chastise myself for having a silly school-girl crush on a perfect stranger, but another part of me just wanted to enjoy the feelings. It had been a very long time since I'd had a boyfriend. I'd broken up with Bill Compton months before and hadn't been even remotely interested in dating since then. In a way, that was good because I was able to focus completely on my work and I could see that I was doing a good job. But another part of me—the private part—the part that made me more of a woman and less of a reporter, had missed that element in my life. I hadn't thought about sex for a long time. I'd had no need whatsoever. But for the first time in months, I found myself feeling need and want and plain old lust, and I gave myself permission to relish those feelings. I closed my eyes and touched myself and wasn't even surprised when I heard myself whisper a name shortly after: Eric.

Later that week, I casually asked Sam, my boss and the station manager, about Eric Northman. I was trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, but feared that Sam could see right through me.

"Oh yeah, Eric. He's doing a series of interviews for the station. Mostly local politicians, business owners, that sort of thing. But they're one-on-one in-depth interviews. We're hoping to put them together in a show we can air after the late-night talk shows. He's cheap and highly recommended. He uses the studio late at night, only needs one cameraman. Really, there's not much at risk even if the show doesn't work. He's some big shot from CNN, I guess semi-retired, and just wanted to come here to do these interviews."

"From CNN?"

"Yeah."

"I've never heard of him. And isn't he awfully young to be a big hot shot?"

"Oh, I think he went by a different name."

"Well, that's odd. What was it?"

"Um, I can't remember."

"What do you mean?" Sam seemed a little confused.

"Well, anyway, he came highly recommended, like I said."

"Recommended by whom?"

"Um, I'm not sure." Sam was definitely rattled, so I lowered my shields and listened to his brain, but there wasn't anything there. It was the oddest thing. I repeated my questions and listened again, and it was as if there were blank spots in Sam's memory. I had never felt anything quite like it, and I was more than a little worried about Sam. I was also even more curious about Eric Northman and decided to use my well-honed reporter skills to learn more about him. He had definitely piqued my interest.


	2. Chapter 2

My hands were both going numb and I was starting to feel a little queasy. I listened with my mind and could still sense Rene somewhere in the house, but he was too far away for me to get a clear read on his thoughts. But judging from his earlier thoughts and obviously from the predicament I'm in now, it's obvious that Rene Lenier is a very dangerous man. I was trying to control the panic I was starting to feel and so I let my mind drift back to Eric.

After our initial meeting, I started hanging around the studio later and later. I ran into Eric fairly frequently. Sometimes he was in the break room while I was there, and on more than one occasion we had fairly long conversations. He was serious and bright, but with a wicked sense of humor. I found myself attracted to his personality as much as his blue eyes and perfect body, and that's saying something because I thought about that body all the time. It was flawless. He just reeked of masculinity. I was still fascinated that I was unable to hear Eric's thoughts and one night decided to touch him. Sometimes touching people amplified their thoughts to me. Eric had said something funny and as I laughed, I reached across the break room table and touched his wrist. Not only did it not amplify anything, but I was shocked at how cool his skin was. I couldn't stop my reaction. "You're so cold."

"Yes. I have a rare blood disorder. My circulation is very poor and I'm always on the cool side."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry if it startled you."

"No, not at all," I lied. It was startling, but not unpleasant. I actually wanted to touch Eric more, but decided to mind my manners and keep my hands to myself.

He was interviewing the mayor of Shreveport late one night and I decided to sit quietly in the dark control room and observe him. He didn't know that I was there. He was a brilliant interviewer. I could tell the mayor was impressed. After he left, the cameraman shot Eric's close-ups while Eric repeated his questions. He did it all in one take and then said goodnight and walked the cameraman out. He locked the back door to the studio, turned out all the lights, and suddenly I panicked at the thought of being locked in, but I didn't want Eric to know I had eavesdropped. I was wondering what to do just as the door to the control room opened and I felt Eric standing in the doorway. I couldn't see his face in the dark but I got the distinct impression that he knew I was in there. I decided to speak and get it over with. "I'm sorry. I wanted to watch your interview. I should have asked you first."

Suddenly he was right in front of me. "I don't mind, Sookie. You can watch whenever you'd like."

"Oh…okay..." He took a step closer and I could smell his scent and my heart started to race. I started to open my mouth to say something else and his lips were on mine, his tongue roughly in my mouth all at once. Suddenly I couldn't speak, but my knees went weak and I reached up and put my hands in his hair. It was so completely out of character, but all I wanted was to have his taste in my mouth, to feel his body pressed into mine. I sat on the desk that I had been leaning up against and opened my legs as he pressed his perfect body into mine. I felt his hardness and moaned. This was so damned wrong on so many levels, but I just couldn't stop myself. Because it was so completely and perfectly dark—studios have no windows whatsoever and are required to be light tight—being with Eric in there felt anonymous. Maybe having no sense of sight made my other senses seem heightened. Or maybe it was just because Eric was so sexy and perfect and hard as a rock. I don't know. But before I knew it, I was rubbing myself on him and alternately moaning his name and sucking on his tongue. His mouth left mine and I felt his tongue trace a line down my neck. He started nibbling and kissing and I thrust my hips into him a little harder when suddenly I felt him bite into my neck. I gasped and cried out and thought to myself, dang, that's gonna leave a mark. But then I didn't care and just wanted more and more and more. Eric's movements became more forceful and I pulled his hair, bringing his face up and forcing his mouth back to mine. We were both being pretty rough and suddenly I tasted blood in my mouth and I jerked my head back. "Oh my god, Eric! Did I bite you? Are you okay?" He kind of grunted a yes and then stuck his tongue back into my mouth, pushing even harder into me. It all felt so amazing, but I was not expecting the immense and explosive orgasm that rocked me next. There was something about that blood-tainted kiss that just sent me over the edge. I knew it was probably completely kinky and strange, but it was the most amazingly sexual experience of my life. I felt Eric's back stiffen and knew he was coming too and so I held on fast. We both gripped each other tightly and I felt the dampness between my legs, and thought, oh my god, I just humped Eric in the control room. Have I lost my mind? Well, yes, I have and it feels pretty great. Eric buried his face in my neck and I felt his tongue gently lick the spot where I would be applying makeup for the next few days to cover the giant hickey that surely must be there. He murmured, "beautiful," into my neck and I just sighed a deep satisfied, "yeah."

Eric loosened his grip on me and stepped back a little. I needed to feel reality again and so I took a step forward and reached towards the wall that should have the light switch on it. "I'm just gonna turn this on…"

"No!" He sure seemed adamant about wanting it to stay dark, but I was not about to go another round with him. This was already crazy enough.

"It's okay, Eric." I took another step and flipped the switch and then was completely shocked to find myself standing alone in the control room. I looked around, stunned and puzzled and caught sight of the door closing across the studio, Eric's blond head disappearing into the night. That was insane and impossible. How on earth had he gotten across the room so quickly? And why would he just leave so abruptly? Was he really so embarrassed for me to see the big wet stain on the front of his pants? It's not as if he was the only person to have had an orgasm on company time. I had behaved just as lustfully as he had. It made no sense, but then nothing about our crazy little encounter made much sense.

I checked to make sure the door was locked and then made a stop in the ladies room. I wanted to see what a thoroughly ravished woman looked like right after the fact. My hair was wild, my face flushed, the crotch of my pants visibly damp. That was all to be expected. What I hadn't expected was my splotchy but otherwise flawless neck. Here I was ready to be mortified at my giant sized hickey, and there simply was none. I went home thoroughly sated and thoroughly puzzled. What had Eric Northman done to me?

For the following nights at the studio, I kept hanging around later and later, hoping to run into Eric, but I never saw him. I asked Sam when he was scheduled for another interview, and he wasn't. Sam told me that Eric had "gotten what he came for," and I tried very hard not to take that personally. I was mad and confused. Had he just humped me and taken off? I thought we were hitting it off after all of our break-room conversations. Plus, I was consumed by thoughts of our little control-room encounter in the dark. It was the most sensual experience I'd ever had and not an easy thing to put out of a person's mind. Well, maybe it was easy for Eric Northman. Suddenly, I felt foolish, like I'd been used. Maybe he bit the necks of all the female reporters he came across and it was nothing to him. But it sure wasn't nothing to me. It was kind of everything, dammit.

It was so not nothing that here I am, weeks later, tied up and facing real terror, and all I can think about is that I don't want to die without seeing Eric again. I had been following some leads in a multiple murder case in Bon Temps, the little town south of Shreveport where I live, when I learned that one of the women missing was Rene Lenier's sister. She had a different name, but I picked right out of a police detective's brain that she was related to Rene, whom I knew through my brother. So, I decided to pay Rene a visit and see what I could learn, and that's how I wound up in this closet. I was shocked by the tangled and violent thoughts I heard from Rene and knew in an instant that he had killed his sister as well as several other women. He seemed to sense that I knew and had tied me up and tossed me into the closet. I know what his plan for me is and wish that I didn't. It is going to be painful and slow, just like the others. I feel my bottom lip quiver and whisper a desperate and hopeless plea out into the dark: "Eric."


	3. Chapter 3

Rene appeared, opened the closet door, and roughly yanked me to my feet. I started to try and reason with him. I lied and told him that the police knew where I was, but he only said, "Then I'd better hurry." He carried me outside to the woods behind his house and sat me on the ground, my hands and feet still tied. Then I watched in horror as he picked up a shovel that stood against a tree and began digging a hole. I wept silently as Rene worked and I thought of all the things that I'd never get to do with my life. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the images in Rene's brain of my lifeless body in that deepening hole. As he dug, the sun went down and the woods grew dark.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to concentrate on Eric, the faces of my friends, Jason. I heard the steady rhythm of Rene's shoveling. But suddenly the sound stopped and I opened my eyes. Rene was looking up into the trees, his face illuminated by the faintest moonlight. First he looked confused, and then horrified. I followed his gaze just in time to see Eric Northman descending from a tree down to the ground. It made no sense and I wondered if my mind had snapped from fear and I was hallucinating. Eric landed in front of Rene, reached out and bent Rene's head to one side as Rene let out a yelp. And then Eric bit into Rene's neck. Rene was screaming and flailing his arms, trying to hit Eric with the shovel. Eric's posture was unfazed as he remained attached to Rene's neck.

Soon, Rene stopped struggling and hung limply in Eric's arms. I could see that he was dead, and there was blood running down the front of his shirt. Eric let go and Rene fell to the ground with a thump. Eric turned to face me and he had a mad look in his eyes and his mouth and chin were darkened with blood. I was terrified for a moment, but then his expression changed to one of concern as he knelt in front of me and began to untie my wrists.

"Are you okay? Did he harm you?"

I couldn't answer, but just stared at him as his concentration shifted from my wrists to the ropes around my ankles. He began to examine my face and body and kept repeating the question, "Did he hurt you?" Finally, his eyes landed on mine and it kind of snapped me out of my stupor.

"No. I'm okay."

He looked relieved and clutched me to his chest for a moment. Then he pulled back and looked closely at my face. The moonlight lit his clear blue eyes and the intensity of his stare was overwhelming. I was still in shock, obviously. Otherwise, I could never explain what I did next. I reached up and touched Eric's bloody lips and opened my mouth. His mouth opened as well and for the briefest second, the moonlight glinted off of what looked like a sharp fang just as Eric's lips pressed into mine. I closed my eyes and let the kiss take me away. The whole episode was surreal, impossible. I gave up and let my body have its way as I grabbed Eric's hair and roughly kissed him back, tasting blood and tongue and just Eric. We were kissing passionately. I was pulling Eric's hair as I spread my legs and pulled him into me. I felt the familiar hardness and moaned loudly, lowering my hands, clutching his body to mine. He was growling and pushing into me, licking and sucking my mouth, my tongue. Suddenly, it all hit me: I was about to have sex in the dirt with the man who'd just killed Rene. There was a dead body mere feet away from me and all I wanted to do was fuck this man who was on top of me. It was too much. My mind went into overload and suddenly I was laughing and crying at the same time and clutching Eric tighter and tighter. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality, but I didn't care.

Eric's body stiffened and he pulled away and looked down at me. I watched the lust on his face change to pity as he began to wipe away my tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's too much for you, lover." Too much? It was all too much. I closed my eyes and he held me to him. In the next instant, he was picking me up and carrying me back down to Rene's house. He stopped and opened the back door, standing me just inside the kitchen. "Invite me in."

"What?"

"Invite me in."

"Um…come in." He picked me up again and I kept my eyes closed until I felt myself lying on a sofa. I looked up and saw Eric's bloody face hovering over mine. His eyes traveled down to my wrists and he licked his thumb and rubbed the raw places where the ropes had burned into my flesh. Then he did the same to my ankles, whispering, "all better," seemingly to himself.

I started to cry again and asked, "What happened?"

"Shhh. It's okay. It's all over now. Just relax. I'll take care of everything." His expression changed from gentle to intense and I felt a pressure behind my eyes. Eric's eyes glowed as he stared deeply into mine and I was starting to feel like I was getting a headache.

"What are you doing? That kind of hurts." His mouth opened as if he was going to answer me, but then it closed again and I felt the pressure building again behind my eyes. "Eric. Stop that. It feels weird." Suddenly, the pressure stopped and Eric looked concerned and shocked. His eyes traveled over my face. His hands felt around my eyes and pressed into my temples.

Then he sat back and let out a deep breath and whispered, "What are you?"


	4. Chapter 4

"What am I?" I felt the hysteria bubbling up in me again. "What am _I_? What are _you_?" As I asked that question, I instantly knew the answer, but couldn't verbalize it. I furrowed my brow and felt the tears begin to fall. "My god, it can't be. They don't really exist." I started to cry harder and finally choked out a sob. "You're a vampire."

Eric pulled me to him and held me tightly to his chest. "You have nothing to fear."

"I have nothing to fear? Are you kidding me?" I felt my panic rising as I pushed him away.

"Sookie, I promise I will not harm you. I am only here to protect you. That man is dead because you feared him. I felt your fear. That night in the station in the dark, I gave you a drop of my blood so that I could find you. And now here I am. Please don't cry. Please don't be afraid. Now tell me why I can't glamor you. What are you?"

"That's why you were hurting my eyes? To glamor me?"

"To make you forget. But it doesn't seem to work. I can't understand why."

"I'm a telepath. Would that make a difference?"

He smiled and brushed my tears away. In spite of the sweetness of his expression, the blood on his face was unsettling. "Yes, I think it might." He sat back and studied me. "A telepath. Fascinating. That explains a lot."

"It does?"

"My interest in you is…unusual. I am drawn to you, but didn't know why. Perhaps it is your telepathy." His eyes wandered down to my chest. "Or your physical beauty."

Suddenly, I felt shy. I wanted to change the subject. "Oh my god, Eric. How are we going to explain all this to the police? Rene is dead."

I watched Eric's face and could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. "Wait here." He was gone in a flash, and before I could even register it, suddenly he was back. "I have closed the wounds on that man's neck and hit him over the head with the shovel. You will tell the police that you were able to free your hands and hit him when his back was turned to you. Can you do this?" I nodded. "And then you came back down to the house and called the police."

Eric walked down the hall for a moment and returned with a cordless phone and a wet washcloth. He wiped my face like he would a child's and stuffed the bloody cloth into his pocket as he pressed 911 and said simply, "I was never here." He handed me the phone and turned and left the room. I listened to the front door close as the 911 operator answered.

Waiting for the police to arrive, I felt so alone and terrified. It was hard to process all that had just happened to me. I was crying again when they arrived and I explained how Rene had tied me up, and then led me to the woods in the back of his house. I seamlessly added the part about getting free of my ropes and grabbing the shovel when Rene wasn't looking and hitting him in the head. No one questioned my story. I couldn't tell them of course that I knew that Rene had killed his sister and probably other women, but I told them that I was there to question him because of the murders. I could only hope that they'd find some evidence here in the house that would point them in the right direction.

After I'd been thoroughly questioned and checked out by the paramedics, I finally left to go home. I sat alone in my bedroom, and for the first time wished I'd gotten an apartment in Shreveport that was close to neighbors rather than staying in the old farmhouse my grandmother left to me in Bon Temps. I felt so isolated stuck out in the middle of nowhere. I considered calling Jason and asking him to come over, but it was late and I knew he'd probably already be in bed at this hour on a week night.

Late or not, I did call Sam and told him what happened. We both agreed that I shouldn't do the story since I turned out to be a victim myself, and so he arranged for me to talk to John Quinn in the morning. He wasn't as thorough a reporter as I am, but I kept my opinion to myself and thanked Sam for his concern before saying good night.

I triple checked all the locks and then curled up in my bed and went over the bizarre events of the day and night. I owed my life to Eric and couldn't stop thinking about him. I never expected to meet a real vampire, but I knew for a fact that telepaths are real, so why not vampires as well? I shivered as I wondered what other things were outside my window going bump in the night. And could any of them be as scary as Rene Lenier?

I tried to sleep, but mostly tossed and turned. As disturbing as the whole evening had been, I was the most disturbed by the fact that I had been so turned on by Eric. What kind of a lunatic feels sexually aroused in the middle of a kidnapping-rescue/killing/discovery-of-vampires scenario? It was crazy. I should be terrified of Eric, but all I could think about was how blue those eyes were. And how safe I felt in his arms. And how the muscles of his back felt when I wrapped my arms around him. And how hard he was…okay, this is ridiculous. I finally got up and fixed myself a cup of hot chocolate and sat at the kitchen table in the dark until the sun rose. I wondered where Eric was during the day as I showered and dressed and prepared myself for a tough day of questions ahead.


	5. Chapter 5

I waited to hear from Eric, but there was nothing. I asked Sam if he knew how to reach him: nothing. I found myself working late every night, hoping that Eric would come by, but he never did. I remembered that he told me he'd found me at Rene's because he felt my fear and I wondered if I could fake some fear enough to conjure him up. I missed him. I obsessed over him. I wanted him. I was over the moon.

The Rene Lenier case was eventually solved and the police found evidence linking him to the murders of four women, including his unfortunate sister. The tiny Bon Temps community was shocked that there was a serial killer in our midst. He was even a friend of my brother's, but Jason had had no clue of course as to how disturbed he was. John Quinn got all kinds of accolades for his spot-on reporting which should have been my story. But I didn't really care. I was more interested in solving the mystery of where Eric Northman went and how I could get him back into my life.

The days stretched into weeks and there was still no sign of Eric. I finally could think of no real reason why I should continue to say no every time Quinn asked me out. (He prefers to be called by his last name.) So, even though my heart wasn't really in it, I started dating Quinn. He was fun and nice and we had some great dates. I got caught up on my movies and tried some restaurants I'd been wanting to check out. And my libido finally got to see a little action. I hadn't slept with Quinn, but we'd done some serious kissing and maybe a little more. Quinn was very handsome and masculine and as tall as…well, he was tall. And he seemed to be pretty crazy about me. I never heard anything from his brain that gave me pause.

One night after a couple of months of dates, Quinn asked if we could make love. I couldn't honestly think of a reason why we shouldn't and so I led him into my bedroom and turned out the lights. We stood by the bed as Quinn began kissing my neck and removing my top. As soon as he peeled my bra away, he bent down to take a breast in his mouth. I ran my fingers over his smooth scalp and looked up and out the window and there standing in my yard was a very pale and still Eric just watching with unconcern on his face. I let out a sharp gasp, which unfortunately, Quinn took as a reaction to his ministrations. He held me to him even tighter, but I started to push him away. He looked up at me with confusion in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn, but I can't do this." He stood and stared at me with a hurt expression. "I'm not ready. It's too soon." I knew it wasn't too soon at all and he most likely did as well, but he didn't stop me as I put my bra and top back on and started back into the living room.

"It's okay, babe. I don't want to rush you. Maybe we could just watch a movie or something."

"Nope, nope. You've got to go." I grabbed Quinn's jacket from the sofa and herded him towards the front door. "Thanks so much for dinner. I'll talk to you soon." A quick peck on the cheek and one last polite push and Quinn was on my front porch, looking dazed as I closed the door.

I turned my back and leaned against the door, listening for Quinn's footsteps descending down the porch stairs. As soon as I heard his car heading down the driveway, I ran out the back door and into the side yard.

I called out for Eric, but couldn't see him. I searched the tool shed, the yard on all four sides of the house, and finally ventured into the woods behind the house. I kept calling and running, desperate to find him. It was dark in the woods and I knew I should slow down, but I was really out of my mind at that point and obsessed with finding Eric. I wasn't really surprised as much as annoyed when I stepped into the hole and twisted my ankle. Pain shot up my leg and I cried out as I hit the ground. I rubbed the ankle and tried to move my foot, but the pain was too much. I sat defeated and cried into my hands like a little girl.

Once I'd gotten past my initial frustration at having to end my pursuit of Eric, I realized that I may actually be in a bit of trouble. I had run out of the house without putting my jacket on and it was getting cold. I tried crawling, but could see that it would take me hours to make it back to the house at that rate. I pulled myself up to a standing position again and felt a throbbing in my ankle as the blood hit it. I gently set my foot down and tried to put some weight on it and the world started to spin. The pain took my breath away and I knew I would fall. I put my hands out in front of me to break the fall and that was the last thing I remembered.

When I woke, the first thing I felt was the pain in my ankle. I was still cold, but seemed to be wearing a mystery sweater. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Eric's calm face looking out into the back yard. He was holding me in his arms sitting on the back stoop. I felt a warm rush of relief that I'd found him. Or I guess he'd found me. As I stirred, he looked down into my face. "I think you may have broken your ankle, Sookie."

I reached up and touched his cool pale face. His expression softened and I brushed my fingers through his hair. As my hand landed on the back of his head, I pulled him to me and as my mouth found his, there was no pain, no coherent thought, only Eric and his scent and his lips and then his tongue. I was lost in the bliss as he held me to him a little tighter. I felt the urgency of his kiss and knew that I wasn't the only one with a wee bit of an obsession. As the kiss deepened, my body shifted to get a little closer and I felt the pain shoot through my ankle. I stiffened and let out a tiny whimper which seemed to snap Eric out of his lust. "We need to get you inside." He stood, still holding me and faced the back door. He stopped and just looked at the door and then back to me. "You have to invite me in."

"Oh, please come in."

He gently laid me on the sofa and covered me with the ugly quilt draped across the back. I watched him silently light a fire in the fireplace, admiring the view of his perfect physique in his t-shirt and jeans. I seemed to be wearing his black cashmere v-neck sweater. "Do you need anything else? Food, water?" I shook my head.

"Thank you for finding me and bringing me home."

"You're welcome. There's no need to pretend that I wasn't out there. I know you saw me."

"Why did you run away?"

"I know that I should stay away from you, but I can't seem to do that. It was wrong of me to watch you. I don't want to interfere in your life."

"But what if I want you to?"

"You shouldn't."

"But I do."

Eric walked to the sofa and I sat up a bit as I realized that he was scooting behind me. He settled into the corner of the sofa and I sat back leaning against his rock hard chest. He wrapped his arms around me as if to warm me even though his body was cool to the touch. He nuzzled my hair softly as I stared into the fire, completely happy to be near him. "I can drive you to get your ankle x-rayed or I can give you a little of my blood and it will heal you."

"Really?" He nodded into my hair, kissing my temple. I felt his growing erection pressing into my back. He seemed to like the idea of giving me some blood. "It won't make me…you know…a vampire, will it?"

"No."

"Okay then." Before I had even gotten the words out, Eric had bitten into his wrist and held it to my mouth. I tentatively licked it and then sucked a little. It didn't taste bad actually. I only had a little bit before the wound seemed to magically close. Eric groaned behind me and pressed himself into my back. Oh yeah, this was a definite turn-on for him. His arms held me tightly to his body as he rhythmically rocked himself into my back while he sucked on my earlobe. His body trembled slightly as I continued to lick where the wound had already closed. I tilted my head to the side as his tongue trailed down my neck. I felt his mouth open and his fangs scraped my neck without breaking the skin. I released his wrist and placed his hand over my breast and pressed it to me.

Before I could even register what had happened, Eric was suddenly standing beside me and my head fell back and banged on the arm of the sofa. "Ow." I rubbed the back of my head and turned to look up at Eric. He was staring down at me, his pupils dilated, his mouth open. I got a good look at those fangs and they were beauties—sharp and white.

He mumbled, "I'm sorry about your head," as he turned and walked to the front door. Without looking back, he opened the door and was gone in a flash.

I sat in a stupor with a pout on my face and grumbled to myself, "I haven't even given you any yet." Damn, I was right back where I started: alone and frustrated over Eric Northman once again.


	6. Chapter 6

The following day I walked into the studio on a perfectly healed ankle and broke up with John Quinn. He didn't really seem all that shocked after my odd behavior the night before, and we agreed to remain friends. I did a quick check of his brain and he seemed to regret not getting to have sex with me, but was otherwise fine with the decision.

I asked Sam if I could see the edited interviews that Eric had done and he handed me a stack of dvds that I promised to return the next day. I felt a little guilty about it, but I made myself copies without asking permission. I felt like a teenager with a crush who needed to get her hands on anything related to the boy in question. I recognized that I was clearly out of control, but didn't much care.

That night I sat in the dark of my living room wearing black cashmere that smelled like Eric and watched the interviews. Now that I knew what he was, it seemed so evident. He was pale and spoke a little formally and just seemed a bit "off." I also caught the slightest accent that I'd never noticed before. Even in professional mode, I got an occasional glimpse of that smirk that made me weak in the knees. When I watched the interview with the mayor—the last in the series—I thought of our naughty little control-room encounter just afterwards and thought I might lose my mind with want. I turned off the TV and went to bed and tried to relieve my frustration with my own hand, but it only made things worse. I wondered if Eric was watching me from the yard. I gave up and soaked in a bubble bath, trying to relax my mind and body.

As I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, I noticed that the tiny rose in the bud vase by the sink was wilting. As long as the roses outside were blooming, I kept a few scattered throughout the house in little vases. I usually replaced them on the weekends, but on an odd whim, I decided I wanted a new one for the bathroom that night. I put on my fluffy robe and stepped into my slippers. I found the clippers on the back porch and headed to the side yard where the roses grew by the house. It was warmer than it had been the previous night and the moonlight was bright enough that I could see the roses.

I found the perfect sized bud and clipped it, but just as I held it to my nose to smell it, I pricked my finger on a thorn. It startled me and I dropped my clippers. I bent over to retrieve them and slipped them into my robe pocket as I transferred the rose to my other hand, sucking on the drop of blood on my finger. The taste of my own blood took me back to the previous night and suddenly I had a thought. I searched the yard but saw no sign of him. In spite of that, I opened my robe and let it fall to the ground. The cool night air was not unpleasant as it hit my body which had been recently warmed by the bath. I knew it was crazy, but I tilted my head to one side and pressed the stem of the rose to my neck, piercing the flesh with a thorn. I dropped the rose, closed my eyes and waited for the blood to trickle down my neck. It was such an oddly erotic experience. I felt the tickle of the blood as it traveled down to my breast. I touched it and then put my finger between my legs.

I cried out as I was hit with the sudden sensation of Eric on my body. The impact of him slamming into me took me back a step or two until I was up against the house. I smiled, even laughed a little as I psychotically whispered, "I knew you'd come." I felt his fangs sink into my neck and gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure. As he took a pull from the wound, he fumbled with his fly and then his hands held my hips as he raised me up and brought me down hard on him. He was huge and filled me with the first stroke. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on as he roughly thrust me up against the side of the house. He licked my neck and dragged his tongue to my mouth and enveloped it with hungry lips and a bloody tongue. I sucked on his tongue and moaned with each thrust. I was out of my mind with want but managed to open my eyes and found his staring at me. The moonlight caught the color and they seemed almost translucent. We stayed like that, tongues intertwined, eyes locked as he pumped me harder and harder. I became aware of my back scraping against the wall just as his hand gently came between me and the siding, pressing me to him closer. That added to the building of sensations as I neared my climax. I felt my tongue and mouth relax as my feelings were focused elsewhere. My eyes involuntarily closed as my orgasm overwhelmed me, and just as I was at the peak, he bit into my upper lip and roughly sucked the blood. I screamed from the intensity of the pleasure and he stiffened and groaned as he found his own sweet end. As I was coming down from my high, I vaguely wondered what kind of scar I'd have on my face from a vampire biting into it, but honestly, didn't really care. Eric licked my upper lip and sweetly covered my face with kisses.

Soon I was wrapped back up into my robe and carried into the house. Eric undressed in silence and climbed into bed with me, pulling me to his body and kissing my forehead. "Did I hurt you?"

"No."

"This is crazy, Sookie."

"I know. I can't help it."

"I should stay away. You can't be glamored."

"I don't want to be glamored. I want to remember everything. I've never felt these feelings before, Eric. I don't know what this is, but I don't want it to stop."

"I know. Neither do I." Then there was a brief silence as he held me even closer. "I hate having feelings."


	7. Chapter 7

After that first crazy night when we christened the side of my house, Eric came over every night. Some nights I had to work late, and I obsessively watched the clock, eager to get home to my vampire. I always suspected that my telepathy would make it difficult for me to have a normal relationship with a man, but I never dreamed that I'd fall in love with one who bites me on a regular basis. I knew that it was twisted, but I also knew that I was in love with him. I never said the words because he always seemed so skittish about the relationship.

I got very little information about Eric. He was clearly bothered that I could not be glamored and kept telling me that it was nothing personal, but that it was dangerous for people to know about him. He was apparently vulnerable during the day and I guess he'd known others like him who had been killed when it was discovered what they were. All the myths I had heard about vampires in literature were mostly true according to Eric. He claimed that he did trust me, but that if I had information about him, I could be tortured by his enemies to reveal his secrets. That image opened a can of worms that I really didn't want opened and so I usually changed the subject when we got to that part.

And so I became content with a boyfriend who came over only at night and made love to me with a ferocious intensity that I'd never even imagined before. But as powerful as our sexual connection was, we also became great friends. Maybe because we didn't have to hide the truth about our natures, we could both relax and really share an intimacy that we'd never had before. At least I'd never had it. Eric made me laugh and taught me to see the world in a different way. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to be around him as much as possible. I knew I could never share my days with him, but I wanted to give him my nights every single night of my life. As obsessed as I was before we'd made love, afterwards I was even worse.

It made sense to me that Eric's taking my blood was a big part of our sex life. But I also remembered the intensity of Eric's response when first I tasted a drop of his blood in the dark control room, and then again when he gave me blood to heal my ankle. Naturally, I wanted to please him, and I knew that he was very pleased during those two moments and so one night I asked him if he would like me to take more of his blood. He was quiet for a moment as he seemed to contemplate his answer. "Have I said something wrong, Eric? Should I not have asked that?"

"No, it's fine, lover. You may ask me anything. But you should know that when a human has had had the blood of a vampire three times, a bond is formed between them. They are able to sense each other's feelings." He stared out the window for a moment before continuing. "It is permanent."

"Oh. Well, then nevermind. I just wanted to please you, but if you don't want to be…bonded, then I understand."

He turned to me and touched my face; the tenderness in his eyes nearly broke my heart. "I did not say that I don't want it. It's just a big decision. We both need to consider it. It's very much like a marriage. I suppose in some ways, it's an even deeper connection."

That was the first of many conversations we had about becoming bonded. As crazy as it sounds, I wanted to bond with Eric. I loved him with all my heart and soul and knew I'd never love another man in the same way. But I was also rational enough to see that permanently connecting myself to a man whose home address was a mystery to me was insane.

And so we shared our nights and made passionate love and the weeks turned into months. We were both extremely happy together and amazingly, there was no conversation at all on the night that we made the decision to bond. We had just made love and were lying together just staring at each other. Our fingers were intertwined and I could almost feel the love flowing between us when Eric simply brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down. I reverently held it to my lips and sucked, never breaking our eye contact. As soon as the wound closed, I swept my hair off of my neck and turned my head, exposing my bare skin to Eric. He gently bit and sucked as he held me. I cried blissful tears into my pillow as I felt his tongue close the wound and then I turned to kiss him. I felt my joy mixing with his as we opened our eyes and watched each other. He broke the kiss and just smiled at me. We lay like that for hours just feeling each other wordlessly. I can't imagine any marriage ceremony being more emotional or perfect.

I never asked Eric what he did after I fell asleep every night. I couldn't stay up all night and still do a decent job at work, and so there was a part of every night when Eric was not with me. I knew it was silly to be jealous of the time Eric was elsewhere, just as it would be silly of Eric to be jealous of my working during the day. But I have to admit that I hated the thought of Eric being somewhere without me every night and falling into his daytime rest alone. I continued to ask Eric where he lived, but never got more than a frown for an answer.

I knew I'd crossed a line the night I told him that I needed to know where he lived. It wasn't a question that time, but a demand. I should have known better than to make a demand of a vampire. He stared at me with a still expression for a long time, which was even worse than the usual frown. Finally, after a long silence: "Maybe this was a mistake."

"No, no, no!" I felt the panic welling up in me. "Don't say that, Eric."

He got up and started putting his clothes on. "Why did I think this could work? I'm sorry. It never should have gone this far." I started to cry. "Please don't be sad, Sookie."

"Are you kidding me? Don't be sad? If you walk out that door, you will break my heart!"

"Which is why this was a bad idea in the first place." He turned and held my face in his hands as the tears streamed down my face. "I never wanted to hurt you, Sookie."

"Then don't!"

He walked out of the room and I heard his car start as I threw my pillow ineffectively against the wall. I couldn't decide if I was more hurt or angry, but both emotions brought tears. I curled into a ball on the bed and cursed my stubborn vampire. And then I cursed myself for being foolish enough to demand information from him. He had to protect himself, didn't he? What if there really were people in his world that would torture a woman for his address? There was so much I didn't know and so much I really didn't want to know.

What I did know without a doubt was that we loved each other. Yes, we'd had a horrible fight, but I didn't really believe for a minute that he would stay away from me. He'll come back tomorrow night and I'll apologize, I told myself. It'll be fine. It was just a spat, right? I wiped away my tears and went to bed with an unwavering hope that it would all be fixed tomorrow night. But I couldn't have been more wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

I stayed awake for several nights in a row waiting for Eric, but he never came. Eventually, my sleep deprivation caught up with me, and I started to sleep again. I couldn't function at work on no sleep, and I had to work to keep from losing my mind. I couldn't believe that Eric wasn't coming back to me. I replayed that last scene over and over in my mind, and maybe I was just deluding myself, but I really thought he'd come back. It certainly wasn't the first time I'd questioned my own sanity since I'd met Eric Northman.

I cried for a couple of weeks. And yes, I'll admit that I tried standing nude in my yard, and yes, I made myself bleed, setting the same trap that had worked so brilliantly the first time. Only this time I just felt foolish.

I found myself staring at Quinn one day at work, wondering if I could go back to him, but it was just impossible. Eric had ruined me for all other men. I'd rather spend my life alone than to settle for anything less than how I felt when I was with Eric, and it was looking like that's just what I was going to have to do. There was no more Eric.

Although I knew it was futile, I asked Sam again if he had any contact information on Eric. Of course, he didn't. I listened to his mind, but got nothing. I assumed that Eric lived somewhere in Shreveport, but beyond that, I knew nothing.

One day at work I was scrolling through the photos I had stored in my phone feeling sorry for myself when I stopped on a particular favorite of Eric leaning up against his car in my driveway wearing the black cashmere sweater. He loved that silly red Corvette. I never got it, but I know that men can become quite attached to their cars. I smiled to myself and felt the tears start, but then I stopped. Yes, Eric was leaning against the side of the car and looked great, but the photo was taken from the rear of the car and sure enough, the flash of the camera made it possible to read his license plate.

I immediately wiped the tears away and picked up the phone to call my contact at the DMV.

"Arlene, it's Sookie. Can you run a plate for me?"

"Sure." I gave her the number and made small talk while she scrolled through the data. "Okay, here it is. That belongs to a Leif Norrman. 1637 North Beechwood Drive, here in Shreveport."

"Not Eric Northman?"

"Nope." I sat and absorbed this information for a minute. "Wow. This one's got some money, too. There are four cars and two boats. What's an Aston Martin?"

"A car for people with more money than sense. Thanks, Arlene. I owe you a lunch."

"Not a problem, girlfriend."

I mapquested Beechwood Drive and grabbed my purse. As I turned the corner and the house came into view, I knew I was not on the right track. Eric could not possibly have lived in this house. It was small and very unassuming. I walked around and peeked in the windows and hoped there weren't any nosey neighbors who were watching me. The house was furnished, but it looked staged, like those houses on the real estate shows. I seriously doubted if anybody lived here at all. And the garage was empty. I closed my eyes and tried to feel Eric, but felt nothing but the general hum that was always in the back of my mind during daytime hours and whenever he wasn't with me. This was a dead end.

I sat in my car and contemplated my next move. I pulled out my phone and googled Leif Norrman. Googling Eric Northman had produced very little other than some information about the late night interviews that the station had aired. Leif Norrman produced even less unless he was a champion tennis player in Sweden in the 1960's. Heck, maybe he was.

I started the car and drove downtown to the courthouse. I pulled the property tax records for Leif Norrman and Eric Northman. Leif owned forty-three properties. Eric owned seventeen. Jeesum Peets, somebody has some money. I jotted down all the addresses and cursed the fact that it would take me days to drive by all sixty properties and peek in the windows when suddenly I had another idea. Arlene had said that Eric, I mean, Leif, owned two boats. I took two steps at a time as I went up to the next floor and pulled the plats of lakefront properties in Shreveport. I scanned my lists of addresses and bingo, I found a match. I circled the address on my notepad and took off running.

I was going to find me a vampire.


	9. Chapter 9

It was nearing dusk as I pulled into the driveway of the mansion by the lake that I was starting to suspect housed one Eric Northman. I closed my eyes and felt that same familiar hum, but nothing more. I was debating whether or not I had the nerve to get out of the car when the front door opened and a woman emerged.

I held my breath and felt a sickening wave of nerves sweep over me. She was young and pretty and blonde. Maybe she was why Eric never wanted me to know where he lived. I wondered whether I might vomit and lowered the window to get some fresh air. She looked over at my car, probably wondering what I was doing in her driveway, but then kept walking around the house and disappeared. In a minute, a silver Honda emerged and she was gone. If she was Eric's "wife," she was probably used to strange cars sitting in the driveway and had developed a policy of don't ask, don't tell. I wondered what I'd do if I were in her shoes myself.

So, Eric has another wife. I put my head in my hands and wept. How did I ever think that I was special enough to capture the heart of someone like Eric? Or Leif. Whatever. Apparently, he had really left me and my hoping he'd return was delusional after all. Dusk fell and I was grateful for the cloak of darkness as I sat and cried like a schoolgirl in Eric's driveway. My emotions were out of control. I was afraid, desperate, hopeless. I soon realized that Eric may emerge at any minute now that the sun had set and so I started the car and drove away.

Once I got home, I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep. When I woke, the sun was almost up and I lay there, staring at the ceiling. I was so sad and angry that I had let Eric hurt me so badly. This wasn't like me. I'm a Stackhouse, dammit, and we are tougher than this. I thought back to the moment when I saw that woman coming out of Eric's house and felt the tears start again. Who was I kidding? Tough or not, I was deeply hurt. But I was not afraid, desperate, or hopeless. Suddenly, I sat bolt upright in bed. Those were Eric's emotions. I re-examined that moment in the car, and yes, I was feeling Eric as he woke for the night. Those were not my feelings.

I jumped up and showered and dressed and took off for Eric's house by the lake again. The sun was up by the time I found my spot in the driveway. I felt the steady hum of what I assumed was a sleeping Eric and let it lull me to sleep. I was awakened by the sound of a car coming up the driveway. Mrs. Priss was back in her Honda (really?) and as she approached the front door, I got out and put on my reporter face.

She turned to face me as I approached her on the front patio. "Mrs. Norrman?"

"It's Northman, actually." Ouch.

"Sorry, of course"

"Please call me Ginger."

"Oh, okay. I'm…"

"Sookie Stackhouse. Yes, I know." So, Eric flaunts his love affairs to you, does he? "You're a reporter at the station where Mr. Northman works. I've watched you on TV." She was gushing. And calling her husband Mr. Northman?

"Yes, we're colleagues." Who fuck.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Stackhouse."

"Please call me, Sookie, Mrs. Northman."

"No, it's Ginger. And I'm not married to Mr. Northman. I'm his housekeeper." Well, alrighty then.

"Ginger. Right." I almost lost control of my bladder I was so relieved that this woman was just Eric's housekeeper. "So, is Eric home?" Please don't open his coffin on my account.

"No, he's probably at work." She furrowed her brow and I dipped into her head and found the same holes I'd seen in Sam's. Somebody's been doing some glamoring.

"Oh, okay, then I'll just catch him at the station. Thanks, Ginger."

"No problem! It's so nice to meet you."

"You too."

I turned and left, trying not to skip and whistle I was so happy to have discovered that I had not uncovered Eric's spouse after all.

I tried to go about my day normally, but I don't think I was fooling anybody. My mind was not on my work. I was giddy at the thought that I had found Eric's house and discovered that Eric was not Ginger's husband, but then I remembered those awful feelings that I'd felt that I was certain were Eric's. Why would he be feeling desperate? Hopeless? Something was definitely wrong and I was determined to find out what that was.

Towards the end of the day, I doctored one of my business cards on the computer so that it looked like Eric's and wrote a note on the back, doing my best to duplicate his handwriting. Then I went back to see my old friend, Ginger.

As I approached the front door, I took a deep breath. Ginger answered and was so happy to see me.

"Hi, Ginger! I am supposed to meet Eric here. Did he call you?"

"No." She looked confused and I searched the holes in her brain and found very little else. I handed her the card. She turned it over and read aloud. "Sookie. My house. 6 p.m. Have Ginger let you in if I'm not home yet. Eric." She looked up and smiled at me. "Please, come in." Okay, this was a little scary—that it was so easy to get in the door. No wonder Eric was paranoid about his safety.

I sat uncomfortably in the living room as Ginger gathered her purse and jacket. She seemed a little awkward as she stood and faced me. "I really should go. Mr. Northman doesn't like me here after dark. Oh wait, maybe it's that I'm supposed to stay until after dark. I can't remember." I dipped into her poor little swiss cheese brain and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Please, don't let me keep you. I'm sure he'll be here any minute."

"Well, okay." She looked around uncomfortably. "Good night then."

"Night, Ginger."

As soon as I heard her car going down the driveway, I started to snoop. I closed my eyes and felt that hum and followed it to the library and a bookcase. Really? I thought of every silly scary movie I'd ever seen and reached up and pulled the old wooden candle holder towards me and sure enough, the bookcase began to groan as it turned. I rolled my eyes at how cliché this was and pressed myself against the bookcase as it flipped around and I found myself facing a staircase that led down to…well, I had no idea, but I was about to find out.


	10. Chapter 10

I felt my way down the dark staircase and came to a door at the bottom of the stairs. I turned the knob and entered the pitch black room, feeling my way along the wall for a light switch. I found it and flipped it on and looked around. I was in the basement in what would make a great laundry room, but instead it seemed to be the torture chamber of the house. Eric was sitting slumped over, tied to a chair. It was probably still light out and so I assumed he was in his daytime rest, but that wouldn't explain the marks all over his body. He was shirtless and his torso was covered with welts and bruises and scars and dried blood. His body was wrapped with silver chains that bound him to the chair and seemed to have burned into his flesh. His ankles were bound and his hands were behind him, also bound with silver. His hair was matted with blood. I looked around the room and the walls were covered with peg board as in any workshop, but instead of normal tools, these walls held implements of torture, many of them caked with dried blood. The room reeked of blood and stale air.

I immediately knelt at Eric's feet and began unwinding the silver chains. I had no idea what else might be in this house and so as I unwound the chains from Eric, I wound them around my neck, arms, torso. If Eric's torturer was also a vampire, maybe these would make me less tasty-looking. As I released him from the chain around his chest, he fell to the floor at my feet. I rolled him onto his back and yelled into his ear. "Eric!" His eyes twitched, but he did not move. "Eric! It's me, Sookie!"

I could feel the stirrings of fear in him. His eyes opened for a second and he seemed to focus on me. "Run." Then they closed. "Hot rain." Well, that made no sense, but I certainly knew what run meant. I didn't want to leave Eric, but thought that unbound maybe he'd have a chance to defend himself once he woke up. And I decided that I should take his advice and run. Whatever had the power to bind Eric and torture him was no match for me, Stackhouse or not.

I ran up the stairs and reached for the candleholder that predictably opened the bookcase and found myself in the library again. The house was dark, and yet Eric wasn't awake. I wondered if he was weak from the torture and I turned to go back to him to give him some blood, hoping that would give him strength. But before I could get back to the bookcase, I heard footsteps descending the stairs behind me and a deep laugh.

"Delicious!" I turned to face the voice and could make out a tall man with long black hair and sharp white fangs smiling at me. It was dark in the house, but his skin almost glowed. I had a brief odd thought that he was very handsome and most likely Native American and then it hit me: Hot Rain. This was Hot Rain. I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins as fear washed over me.

I dashed back to the bookcase and grabbed the candleholder, desperate to get back to Eric, although I knew logically that he would most likely not be able to help me. But I also knew that I could never outrun this vampire, and I was certain there was no help for me anywhere other than downstairs. In my haste, the candleholder broke off in my hand and the bookcase stopped mid-turn. Was I just leading this monster back to a defenseless Eric and trapping myself in the basement with him? I decided to change tactics and ran for the front door. Panic had overtaken logic.

I made it to the front entry way before I was knocked to the floor from behind. I screamed but kept crawling towards the front door. Suddenly hands were on me, grabbing my legs, my hips, and then as they grabbed my waist, I heard the yelp as the chains burned him. He turned me over onto my back and in a frenzy, his body was on mine, mouth at my neck. I heard the screams as his flesh burned, but saw the flash of fangs and a wild-eyed expression in his eyes as he searched for a chain-free spot in which to sink his teeth. I stabbed at him wildly with the broken candleholder until he knocked it from my hand with his own. I heard it clatter across the floor but kept fighting with all my might. My attacker kept mindlessly biting my chain-covered neck and his screams were louder than mine. Then suddenly I realized that my screams were the only ones I could hear and the wriggling weight on top of me was somehow melting and covering me with cool heavy goo. I turned over and tried to crawl away, but slipped in the suddenly-growing mess all around me. I flattened on the floor, crying loudly from fear and relief that somehow the monster that was about to eat me was suddenly gone and replaced with a floor-full of vampire pudding.

I tried to regain my composure and turned around to see what had happened. It was still dark, but the moonlight through the front windows illuminated the room enough for me to see Eric lying at my feet, face down. The goo turned to ash and then simply vanished all around me. I scrambled back to an unconscious Eric who still had the broken candleholder in his hand. I rolled him onto his back, and as I did so, the chains around my wrists dragged across his shoulders and chest and he groaned in pain.

I quickly unraveled the chains from my arms, neck and chest and tossed them aside. I tried to pry the candleholder from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go. So, I simply placed my wrist at the sharp tip of the splintered wood and pressed down until I felt pain. Then I placed my wrist at Eric's lips. He was unresponsive. I pressed harder and cried, "Drink!" between sobs, but he still didn't move. I hit his chest with my free hand, tried to shake him awake, but nothing seemed to work. Then in a last desperate move, I grabbed his crotch and uselessly stroked his flaccid member. I finally gave up and dropped my head onto his chest and wept. Only then did I feel movement and looked up to see him smile as he parted his lips and swallowed the blood. As he licked the wound closed, his eyes opened and found mine.

"You never give up, do you?" He had that signature smirk on his face. I buried my face into his chest and cried hard. "It's okay, lover. It's all over now." He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight as I wept into his body.


	11. Chapter 11

Eric was still very weak, but once he'd had my blood he managed to stand and walk upstairs with me. He led me to a hall closet. Once inside, he pushed aside some hanging clothes and turned on the light to show me a small keypad beside another door. He punched in 1001 (and joked that it may have been the year he was born) and we found our way into a huge and beautiful bedroom.

We were both filthy. I was covered with some sort of residual soot that had once been Hot Rain and Eric still had dried blood all over him. I offered to clean Eric up, but he said he needed to rest, and so we lay on top of the burgundy comforter and I just hoped that it would come clean later because it was just too pretty to ruin. Eric lay on his back and pulled me to him, kissing the top of my head. "Thank you, Sookie. I don't know how you found me, and I should be angry that you took such a risk, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful." He closed his eyes and I felt his body relax. "Could you please bring me the phone, lover?"

I slid off the bed and found a cordless phone on his nightstand. I watched him punch in a number and then lay back with his eyes closed again. "Ginger, it's Eric Northman…yes, yes, fine, thank you. Yes, she's still here actually. If you wouldn't mind, Sookie has agreed to meet some workmen here in the morning for me. You may have the day off. Actually, take a few days, with pay of course. No, I'll call you. Thank you, Ginger. Good night." I took the phone from him and hung it back up. When I turned to face Eric again, he was completely still. I climbed back up on the bed and snuggled into his body. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

When I woke, Eric was still…asleep? Resting? I had no idea what you'd call it, but his eyes were closed. I had never seen him in such a state and it was kind of scary to see him seem so dead, but I suppose that technically, that's what he was. I tentatively whispered into his ear, "Eric, are you okay?"

I got a "Mmmm," that satisfied me, and so I got out of bed and made my way into the bathroom. I crossed my fingers and hoped the toilet flushed normally since I knew he never needed it and breathed a sigh of relief when it did. I noted that it was just after eleven as I passed back through the bedroom and made my way downstairs. Ginger kept the fridge stocked for herself fortunately, because I was starving. I fixed myself a sandwich and had a nosey wander through the downstairs rooms as I ate. Then I locked up the house and turned off the lights as I made my way back to Eric.

I took a quick shower and helped myself to a t-shirt from Eric's dresser before I turned out the light and climbed under the covers beside Eric. I wanted to cuddle with him on top of the comforter, but knew I'd get cold during the night. Of course, he was always cool to the touch. I wrapped his arm around me and hoped he didn't mind my wet head lying on his chest. Then I let my tears of relief flow and got my big vampire pillow even wetter as I cried myself to sleep.

I slept until almost 7:30, which was unusual for me. Of course, I'd had an unusual night and maybe needed a little more beauty rest than I normally do. Eric hadn't moved all night and I turned on the light and watched his face for a minute before rising. I found a pair of sweatpants and some too-large flip-flops and put them on before going down to make some coffee. I called the office and left a message for Sam that I was taking a personal day off to take care of some chores, which wasn't a lie. I found a drawer with new toothbrushes in an upstairs bathroom and was grateful to be able to brush my teeth, but there wasn't much to be done about my hair that had dried while I slept. Oh well.

My first task was assessing the damage to the house. I tried cleaning the hardwood floor where Hot Rain had disintegrated, but there was still a dark stain. I'd have to come back to that. I took the silver chains down to the torture room and hung them on the pegboard. I wasn't sure what to do about the chair. Did it belong in here? I really had no idea how a torture room should be furnished, and so I just pushed the chair against the wall. I picked up Eric's bloody and torn shirt off the floor and threw it into the trash can behind the house.

It took awhile, but I managed to find some wood glue and repair the candleholder by the bookshelves. It was a clean break and once I washed my blood off and Hot Rain's soot, it looked just fine back in place. Okay, maybe it was a touch darker than the other one, but it was fine. I opened a can of soup for lunch and watched some soap operas in the den. It had been years since I'd been home on a weekday, and I didn't know most of the characters, but the plots were basically the same. Such drama, I thought—but it couldn't even compare to my life.

I washed my dishes and snooped some more in the house. And it was a doozy. Then I went outside and down to the lake for awhile, just admiring the grounds. On my way back, I stopped at the garage, which was bigger than my house, by the way, and went inside to see the cars. There was a Mercedes with Texas plates parked behind the garage and I wondered whose it was—maybe Hot Rain's? Once I went inside, I had to admit that the Aston Martin was pretty gorgeous and maybe worth the price if you happened to have a pile of money. I discovered a large store room off of the garage that had boxes, lamps, a few pieces of furniture, and some rolled up rugs. Some of the rugs were too heavy to move, but I found one that I thought might work in the foyer where Not Hot Rain was. Sure enough, once I had it rolled out, it looked pretty good there. I found a vacuum cleaner and got the dust off and stepped back, rather proud of my little solution to the problem.

Satisfied that the house was back in order, I went upstairs, returned my flip-flops to the closet and climbed up on the bed to snuggle with my vampire, waiting for the sun to set. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, I was feeling Eric's feelings as he woke up. He was confused, then relieved and finally, horny. He pushed my hand down to his evening wood and I began to explore a part of him that I had missed quite a bit, but within a few seconds, he removed my hand and I felt his confusion again. I looked up into his eyes. He looked so serious.

"You must be starving, Eric." I pulled my hair back and lifted my head, placing my neck directly over his mouth. He bit down and I gasped at the pain, but then relaxed as he took a few pulls and then closed the wound.

"Thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

"Stronger now. I called Ginger last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"I don't remember much."

"Well, she didn't come today, and I think I've got the house looking okay again." I watched his smirk emerge.

"You never fail to surprise me, Sookie."

"You've got a beautiful house."

"Would you like to live in it?"

"The last time we had a conversation, I wasn't allowed to know the address."

"Well, I've changed my mind about that. Let's think about it while we're in the shower." Okey dokey, then.


	12. Chapter 12

Eric and I had certainly showered together before at my house many times, but I had never seen a shower like Eric's. It was huge and beautiful with two shower heads—those fancy ones that make it seem like it's raining from above. I gently washed Eric's hair while he was on his knees, clinging to me with his face pressed into my stomach. Good thing he didn't need to breathe. I did it twice to get all the blood out and I was very gentle, not knowing if he was still injured. Eric stood and pressed himself into my back as he washed my hair. Then he dipped me, rinsing my hair as he supported my back. I closed my eyes as the hot water massaged my scalp and Eric kissed my breasts reverently.

He stood me back up and began to gently wash my body: my arms, shoulders, back. As he massaged my breasts with his soapy hands, he muttered, "I thought about these a lot." Then his hand slid up my chest and a finger traced my collarbone. "And this." He pushed my hair over a shoulder and stroked my neck. "And this." He re-soaped his hands and pulled me to him as he pressed his talented fingers into my back, massaging his way down until he had a firm grasp of my generous booty with both hands. "And this." Those soapy hands dropped lower, snaking between my thighs as he bent and nuzzled my neck. Then he dropped to his knees and watched his own hands as he got all my girl parts thoroughly clean. Once I was soaped and rinsed, he mumbled one last, "And this," before ravaging me with his masterful tongue. I separated my legs and held on to his head for support as I felt myself drifting into oblivion. After all the soaping and massaging, it didn't take me long to climax. I felt my head drop back as I came and the water hitting my face caused me to sputter and laugh. For some reason, the orgasm seemed to intensify the laughter and soon I found myself consumed with joyous peels of laughter. I opened my eyes and looked down to find Eric grinning from ear to ear as he watched me coming down from my high. "My god, you're beautiful."

I regained my composure and declared it Eric's turn as he stood and held his arms out to his sides, smiling like the Cheshire cat. I took the soap and began carefully washing his body, asking as I went if I was hurting him. There were still some raised welts and marks on his body, but he said he felt no pain. When he was all clean, I wrapped an arm around his glorious behind and bent over to put him in my mouth. I stroked him with my free hand since it was impossible to fit him completely into my mouth even though I certainly gave it my best attempt. He seemed to appreciate my efforts judging from the sounds he made and just as he was climaxing, he threw his head back as well. The water from the shower head above him filled his mouth and he loudly gargled, making us both laugh, and of course, I almost drowned, but it wasn't because of the water.

Eric showed me where to toss the dirty comforter down a laundry chute so that it landed in the laundry room in the basement. We found a clean one in a hall closet that was equally beautiful (He explained a vampire's abundant supply of comforters, rugs—anything that spilled blood could ruin.) and then I gave Eric my little tour of where I'd repaired the candle holder and put down the area rug. He kissed me and thanked me with a delicious dinner of pasta with pesto sauce and a grilled chicken salad. After dinner, I got the grand tour of the house and grounds in our cozy robes even though I told him I'd already snooped and seen most of it.

Eric made a fire in the giant fireplace in the living room and then laid me down on the rug and made love to me until I was crying from the beauty of it. As it got late and I got tired, I went upstairs and donned my nasty, sooty clothes again to wear home. Eric offered to drive me, but I'd need my car in the morning to get to work.

Eric left me at the front door for a minute and returned, pressing a house key into my palm. "This is for you."

"Thank you. Are you sure?"

"Yes, lover. We need to talk about this more, but before you leave my sight again, I want you to know that I love you and as long as you walk the earth, I want to walk beside you. I'm so sorry I left you after the things I said. I feared for you then, but I was wrong to leave. I knew it that night, but never got the chance to explain myself. I thought you wouldn't be able to handle my real world, but now I see that you are the bravest, most tenacious, smartest, most loyal woman I think I've ever known." He looked so serious, my heart seemed to skip a beat at his words. "Plus, I like your tits."

He kissed me as we both laughed. "Seriously, consider what I said. I want you to live here with me, be my companion, let me make you happy. Will you think about it?"

"I doubt if I'll think of much else."

As I drove away, I looked in the rearview mirror at the mansion that would most likely soon be my home. I already knew what my decision was. I had loved Eric for a long time and knew I didn't want to live without him. Yes, our lives together would be unusual and full of surprises, but I knew I'd never be bored. I pictured a life with a man that I'd have to keep a secret, a world where I didn't know the rules. I knew it was crazy, but I also knew that I'd never leave him. He was the love of my life and I was simply over the moon.

XXX

A/N: Please enjoy Eric's point of view in my companion to Over the Moon called Under the Stars.


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